"They burned our names from history. So I carved mine into their heaven."
---
8 Years Ago — After the Fall
Astha wandered through the ruins of Aaryavrat for three days. No food. No water. Just ash and silence. The world had moved on like it never happened.
But he remembered.
And so did the weapon born from the pyres — Smritidhaara — coiled at his side, whispering in the voices of those who were never supposed to exist again.
His bare feet dragged across scorched ground. His eyes were dry, but not empty. They simmered.
On the fourth night, he reached the edge of a Divine Pathway — a golden bridge of energy connecting Earth to the heavenly dominions. No mortal had ever stepped on one without permission.
Astha walked onto it alone.
---
At the halfway point between realms stood Sharvaka, a divine executioner — faceless and plated in white gold armor, with six arms, each bearing a weapon used in ceremonial slaughter.
"You do not belong here," Sharvaka said.
"You remember what should be forgotten."
Astha didn't answer.
He pulled Smritidhaara loose.
The divine wind screamed.
Sharvaka attacked first.
Two spears. One blade. A crushing wheel of mantras.
Astha took the blade to the chest. Let it sink. Then grabbed it with one hand and yanked it out of Sharvaka's grip.
"I won't let another god decide who's worth remembering."
He wrapped Smritidhaara around Sharvaka's throat — the flame-linked chain flickering with echoes of dying screams.
Every soul erased by divine will screamed through the weapon.
The flame ignited. Not like fire. Like truth.
The executioner flailed. Struck. Screamed.
But it was Astha's memory that bound him, not muscle.
And then, with one brutal jerk — Astha snapped the divine helm in half.
Sharvaka didn't die. He disappeared, banished back to Swarnalok.
"Remember my name," Astha spat.
"Because I will erase yours."
---
After the battle, Astha collapsed beneath the divine sky. The flame in his chest flickered like a dying coal — but refused to go out.
Smritidhaara began to wrap around his arm, on its own, pulsing with deeper intensity.
A vision struck him.
The gods in Swarnalok watched. They saw the anomaly. The one the ritual couldn't erase. The mortal who defied erasure.
"He lives?" one god said.
"He remembers?" asked another.
"Then let him burn for it," whispered the one who gave the command.
And so they sent more.
---
Return to Present – Temple Ruins
Astha stood before the cracked altar, eyes glazed. His mind still trapped in the fire of his youth.
Luv leaned against a pillar, silent, absorbing every detail. Naira gently placed a hand on Astha's shoulder.
"You fought alone?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"No. I survived alone. The fighting… that was just the beginning."